Fear and Deception aka Taking Chances
by airwolf addict
Summary: Story Twenty. Every time things seem to get better disaster strikes again. Will things ever get back to normal, or close to normal as they can for Hawke?
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Wounded and now fueled by anger and fury, she flew across the desert sands in hunt of her prey. He wouldn't escape, not this time.

Facing each other menacingly, they each waited in silence for the other to make a move. He would give in; he, of all people, knew what this wolf would do to protect her new pack, and he didn't have a fighting chance.

Something was wrong though.

The hammer clicked into position against the cold metal revolver. He aimed carefully then pulled the trigger. That meager thing wouldn't hurt this wolf though, unless…

It darted across the air, slicing through it with precise deadliness.

Stringfellow Hawke, her new master, reached downward with his thumb, knowing that one missile would take care of that pesky bullet and their prey, the one that had caused him so much pain and grief. But nothing happened. Then, before any move could be made to prevent it, the single bullet went through the mid-air refueling intake and Airwolf crumpled to the ground in a massive, flaming fireball.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Stringfellow Hawke woke up covered in enough sweat to make him wonder if he had been standing too close to the explosion that had supposedly just killed him seconds before. He was glad that wasn't how things actually turned out. Moffet didn't deserve to get away with something like that, but it would have saved him a lot of heartache if Moffet had killed him.

He never would have met Caitlin though, nor Le, and Chance wouldn't even exist; who knows whether Saint John would have ever been found and rescued, probably not.

Amazed he hadn't woken his wife, he slipped out of the bedroom and downstairs. Outside, he could hear the steady drizzle of rain pitter-pattering against the cabin walls and roof. Nevertheless, he crept outside and sat on the bench swing. Cold rain splashed him and soon became frigid, pelting streams pouring out of the dark gray sky at an ever-increasing rate.

Gusts of wind blew the cold water onto him, but he didn't mind. Right now he found it refreshing and calming, a reassurance that he was still actually alive. The weather grew increasingly worse, but not enough so to make him go back in. He was alive and now had a family - that was something to be thankful for - so was the rain that watered the trees that provided shade and lumber. Going inside now would spoil the moment. Most people now adays thought this kind of weather was a nuisance and nothing more, but there was so much beauty in it, the swaying trees, the roaring waves, streaks of lightning flashing across the sky.

If it kept up like this, flying wouldn't be good, but the hangar was closed today anyway so that wouldn't be too big of a deal, just no way of getting out to work on the Lady. Oh well, the parts wouldn't be in yet anyway. He, Cait, and Chance would just have to stay in today and enjoy it.

Gradually the dark sky gave way to the light breaking over the horizon, a warm orange ball of sunlight shining over the mountains tops and causing it to glitter majestically. It was always even more beautiful after a storm; he could just get lost in the beauty…

Next thing he knew, Chance was crawling up into his lap. Chance wasn't the early morning riser that his father was, but he seemed to share the love of the beauty of it. He sat on his father's leg and dropped his head against String's chest, looking out at the surrounding area; his wide crystal blue eyes full of wonder.

Hawke sighed contentedly. Things couldn't get much better.

\A/

**The next morning**

Caitlin joined Hawke in the Jet Ranger after securing Chance into his seat. The sky was still grey and cloudy, threatening of more storms to come, but as of yet not bad enough to cancel the film shoot this morning. They could make decisions about the rest of the day after that.

For this particular scene Dom and String would be in an old World War II A-36 up against a German M-232. Caitlin would work with ground control on this one, where she was needed most, but hoped that next time she could be up in the air. There she felt more useful, and it was a lot more exciting.

The A-36 swooped down behind the M-232 and let looses a barrage of gunfire, The other plane stalled and smoke poured out of the starboard engine ominously, but the pilot was too stubborn to give in. He would win, or die trying. With most of his weapons taken out, the M-232 abruptly around into a head on kamikaze run. String and Dom's plane ducked down on que, but the other pilot had anticipated it and also dropped down.

"Greg, you're cutting it a little too close. We'll fix it up in editing. Just do what the script says," the director warned.

Greg was definitely not the first name Caitlin would have guessed for the Middle Eastern twenty eight year old pilot, but there was no doubt about his flying skills being as good as he claimed they were. He, evidently, like to push the envelope though.

The smoking and sputtering M-232 inched closer toward the A-36 . String pushed it a little harder, realizing just how close the other plane actually was. "Dom, radio him and tell him to get off my tail."

"The director just did," Dominic replied. "He's doing things his own way."

Hawke reluctantly finished the scene, afraid that if he slowed down too early the other guy would just run him over, then brought the old plane in for a quick landing. The M-232 stopped just behind him, and Greg had barely climbed out when both String and the director lit into him.

"Ok, ok. I get it," Greg answered non-apologetically. "I wanted it to look realistic though and you have to admit I did a good job at that. What's wrong with playing around a little?"

"Playing around is what gets you killed,"Hawke ground out.

"Whatever. I think Stringfellow, here, was just a wee bit scared," Greg taunted.

Caitlin stepped in between the two, at least putting off the fight that was sure to come.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Saint John left the Santini Air office obviously not in the best of moods.

"What's eating you? I'm the one that about got his tail toasted."

"That was the principal from Van Nuys High School. One of the teachers saw Le picking fights with some of the other kids, bruised up one of them pretty bad."

"So you're going over there?"

"Yeah. Principal Peters would like to see me right away."

"Right away, huh? Sounds more like you're the one in trouble, to me," String remarked dryly.

"I guess it does, doesn't it?" Saint John replied with a half-hearted grin.

"Don't got anything better to do around here, I'll come along."

Principal Peters waited in the once spacious office, now cluttered with framed awards, trophies, and bits of work still waiting to be done behind, behind a bulky brown desk across from the non-repentant looking Amerasian boy. He greeted the Hawke brothers as they came in politely, but seemed surprised to see them both.

"Mr. Hawke, I wanted to bring to your attention what your boy here has been up to. One of our teachers here reported him fighting with some of the older boys near the lockers, and in the past two days there have been a considerable number more visits to the nurses office, most of which are somehow related to Le."

"I didn't-" Le's protest was met with a stern warning stare from Peters, but he didn't give in. "I didn't start those fights."

"Whether you did or didn't remains to be seen, but that is not the problem here. He has been in a minimum of two fights in the past couple of days and, although not severely, injured some of his fellow students. I'm just trying to do my job of informing you and doing my best to keep all the students safe."

"What exactly are these fights about?" String directed the question towards his nephew rather than the principal.

"The first one these guys-"

"I have limited time here and what these little scraps were about, is not the point of this meeting. What is important is the safety of my students here."

"I believe I asked Le," String met his glare with an equally dark one.

"The other guys just started the first one for no good reason, I think they were just trying to get me in trouble, and the other time they were picking on Gemmy and I told 'em to leave her alone. They kept messing with her, and when I didn't stop pestering them about it they started that one too."

"I understand things happen and everyone has those moments when they act before thinking, but this type of behavior isn't acceptable. I'll let it go this time, but don't ever let it happen again."

"I'm not promising it won't ever happen again because I would do it all the same if I had it to do over again," Le retorted hotly. "I don't want those guys picking on me or anyone else just because they're older, bigger, and know when the teachers aren't looking."

\A/

Dominic paused, looking for String and Saint John but only seeing Caitlin.

"Le's school called and they both went up there," Caitlin explained. "They should be back soon though."

With that said, the Santini Air jeep pulled in just in front of the hangar. Le didn't look like he was exactly in his father's good graces and tended to hang more around his uncle, whom Saint John didn't seem any more pleased with.

"What's the news?" Caitlin queried.

"I don't like Peters much," String replied matter-of-factly. "It's like he's after Le for something that's not really his fault. In Le's position I would've done the same thing, and in my opinion he did the right thing."

\A/

Saint John rang the doorbell at Ellie Mae's house, and she answered it almost immediately. "Saint John it's good to see you again. Dinner is almost ready so come on in and make yourself at home."

Saint John settled into a chair just outside the kitchen. "You need any help with that?" he offered.

"No, I'm almost done. Hey, were is Le? I didn't see him when you came in."

"He's back at the apartment."

"Everything ok?" she asked.

"He's gotten into a few fights at school and the principal isn't too impressed. String went along for the meeting, but didn't even listen to the principal's point of view, but immediately leapt to Le's defense."

"What about you?"

"Me? I don't know yet. If it was his fault I don't want to let him get away with it, but on the flip side, I don't want to punish him for something that isn't really his fault. String said that in Le's place he would have done the same thing, so it's like he thinks it's suddenly ok. Let's just get on with the evening; I'll worry about it later."

Joshua came through, shouting something about cookies.

Ellie smiled knowingly. "After dinner I told him we would have some cookies," she explained. If you can stand my peanut butter cookies we would love to have you join us."

"Sound good enough to me; I love peanut butter cookies."

\A/

After a most satisfying feast, movie, and cookies, Saint John said a lingering goodbye then started his vehicle and began the journey back to his apartment.

Arriving, he rifled through his pockets until he found the dull, silver-gray key he sought and inserted it into the lock. It turned easily and he walked right in. He hadn't expected to be greeted by Le, for one because they were in the best of terms with each other, and secondly because it was late and he was already supposed to be in bed.

As he walked down the hallway he noticed the dirty footprints tracked across the hallway out of Le's bedroom. Peering into the darkness, Saint John looked at the messy room and the few pairs of clothes that littered the floor.

The window curtains were pulled wide opened, revealing a full moon that shone brightly through. It cast a cool glow on to the bed, the empty bed. Le was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Caitlin looked through the room again. "I just don't know where he could've gone."

String had figured he ran away much like the time when he had first introduced the idea of adopting him, but they had already looked all of the places he could think of that he might have gone, and still no Le.

The police officer, Sergeant Renolds, reentered the room, reporting they still hadn't found anything out. Hawke quickly noticed the strange resemblance this man had to Le's principal and found it extremely hard not to take an immediate dislike to him as well.

"Might any of you have an idea where he is?" Renolds asked accusingly.

"We've already searched every place we can think of."

The first day without Le was already drawing to a close, and none of them were any closer to finding him. Sergeant Renolds promised to continue the search, but told them that they should all go home and get a good night's sleep. Something should turn up soon.

\A/

Caitlin watched as her husband paced between the bar and the kitchen, muttering about how it had to be his fault that Le was gone.

"Didn't you hear what the sergeant said about getting some rest?"

"You actually think I'd be able to sleep?" He paced back and forth yet again. "Maybe with the Lady I could find him…" he slowed the pacing down dejectedly as he remembered the condition the Lady was currently in. She wouldn't be doing much of anything until she'd had some **major** repairs. "Major - Do you think he went to Mike's apartment? It's not too far from Saint John's, and they do get along pretty well."

"Already tried. Mike is out on some course for the air force. Survival course or something like that."

Shaking his head, String went back to pacing again.

"You can't blame yourself for him running away, you know."

"Who said I was?" he returned defensively.

"You did actually," she replied gently. "Besides, I know you and you how you are. You always do."

"Doesn't it have to be? If I stayed out of the whole mess there wouldn't have been that big argument, and Le probably wouldn't have left."

"You don't know that," Caitlin pointed out.

"Maybe it is though."

"Just because something bad happens doesn't automatically mean it's you fault."

"Maybe not everything, but an awful lot of them do link back to me one way or another."

"You're going to wear a hole through the floor if you keep that up, you know."

"I'll be back, Cait, I think I'm going to go for a little run to clear my head."

"It's getting dark out. You don't want to fall and…" run was right; he was gone.

Choosing a path around the lake, String started at a slow pace to warm up and gradually increased his speed, but his thoughts raced. Where was Le? When would they find him or him come back? Why exactly had he left? What was the whole story? Was there any strange link between Peters and Renolds or was it all in his head?

He stopped abruptly to avoid plowing into the fallen log in front of him. Maybe Cait was right; running as it got dark wasn't the most brilliant idea. He started back the way he'd come, still lost in his own baffling thoughts.

Somehow, they were going to find Le and get him home safely. He wasn't sure how, but they had to.

The dark path, illuminated only by the moon and a sparse scattering of stars, wound its way through the trees back toward the cabin. Hawke was amazed at just how far he had come on the short run, and that he hadn't run into any of the many obstacles in his path. At last the wooden cabin come back into view, smoke streaming up from the chimney. The cabin had always been home, but with Cait and Chance it was truly complete. Maybe he wasn't as cursed as he thought…. Forget that. Le was gone and it was all his fault.

\A/

**Early the Next Morning…**

The Bell Jet Ranger landed suddenly on the tarmac just outside the hangar.

"Anything?" Saint John asked hopefully.

"Nothing. Dom should be back in a few minutes; maybe he'll have found him."

"Yeah," Saint John sighed heavily, "maybe."

This wouldn't be the first time Le had run away, but this time he was really gone. He didn't have much money, twenty dollars maybe, so he couldn't get that far, and Sergeant Renolds had promised to let all the local transportation agencies know about his disappearance and to on the lookout, but what was left to search?

Dominic arrived, but with no better news. Amongst the four of them it seemed they had searched every inch of Los Angeles and Van Nuys by foot, car, and air, but still no sign of Le van Hawke.

"We'll find him," Caitlin encouraged. Somehow they would find him; she only hoped it would be soon.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

At the end of another long, tiresome, fruitless search, Dominic and Saint John each returned to their own apartments. String pulled into the hangar for the last time that day. He would pick up Cait and Chance then head back up to the cabin for a couple hours of sleep before searching again at daybreak.

Exhausted from the day's work, Hawke shuffled into the hangar. The phone rang incessantly. Who would be calling the hangar this late? Ignoring it, he went to find his wife and son. The phone began ringing again. He answered it irritably.

"Mr. Hawke, don't ask questions. Leave the search alone and answers will come soon enough."

"What have you done with my nephew?!" String demanded.

"No questions. Let it be, or this game will be a most unpleasant one for you, Mr. Hawke," his menacing voice warned then the line went dead.

"Who was that?" Caitlin queried upon reentry. "String?"

"Whoever has Le says to call off the search or things could get 'unpleasant'."

"How unpleasant?"

"He didn't say, but I know one thing for sure. I sure as hell am **not** about to give up now."

\A/

Renolds strolled into the Santini Air office where Saint John was awaiting his latest report. He obviously wasn't in any hurry, String noted, and Peters had seemed barely sympathetic at best, both of them blaming him for Le's disappearance. Maybe it was his fault, but couldn't they at least show a little compassion?

"Le van Hawke," the officer drawled, "still missing, still no signs of him." He pinned each of them down with an accusatory stare. "You sure you don't have anything else you would like to add? If this kid seemed reasonably happy before this mess happened, and he had as little money as you claim…"

"No, there's not anything else. Don't you think we want him found? If we didn't then we wouldn't have called you, not that it has done us one bit of good."

Renolds leaned back on his heels lazily. "I'm just saying, we're doing all we can to find him, but if he's anywhere if Los Angeles or Van Nuys he is one darn good hider."

Le had been missing for three days now and chances of finding him were growing slimmer and slimmer. Where would a teenage boy with very little money go? Maybe he had more money than they thought, or hitch-hiked. Maybe he had gotten out of town somehow. Maybe…

It couldn't hurt to broaden their search a little since they couldn't seem to find him here anyway.

\A/

"Santini Air, cabin," the radio came to life, but the voice didn't sound like Caitlin's. Who else besides Chance would be there?

"Come on back, we're here."

"Come to the cabin; come quickly."

"What is it?" String demanded from the unfamiliar voice, alarm growing by the second.

"No questions. Find out for yourself."

Try as he might to get a response, the other man was gone, whoever he was, and he had been at the cabin. He had to get back there and make sure everything was alright.

"Saint John, will you cover for me while I go up to the cabin for a little while? I think something could be wrong."

"Yeah, sure. Hey, you need any help?"

"I think I'll be alright, I hope."

Climbing into the Santini Air helicopter, his fingers flew over the familiar instruments deftly to start up the Jet Ranger. Lifting off, Hawke started for the cabin.

Gradually, the sky scene from Van Nuys disappeared, turning into secluded woods that encircled the lake. He must have made record time for the Jet Ranger, but it seemed the opposite way around - maybe record for slowest time.

Everything seemed in order. Calm waves scattered through the tranquil lake, a cool late autumn breeze blowing through the trees, and Tet napping on the end of the dock. Avoiding having to wait on him to move, String landed the chopper in the clearing next to the cabin.

Obviously, something had been wrong when whoever it was radioed in, so String slipped in noiselessly, gun in hand. He scanned the living room/dining area carefully before going up to the loft, then thoroughly searched there as well. Nothing seemed out of place, but something wasn't quite right either; now if only he could place what. Lastly, he went to check the kitchen. Before he got there Chance appeared and grabbed him hand, pulling on it as hard as he could.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

String kept the gun in hand, but followed the youngster into the only remaining room to be investigated.

It was dark and messy, not usual at all, a few broken dish fragments were scattered about the counter tops, sink, and in the floor, as well as silverware and other various utensils. The coffee maker was half ready and looked to have been that way a while.

Finally convinced that whatever had caused this mess was no longer a threat, he tucked the Colt .45 back into his waistband and continued to examine the kitchen further.

In the last corner to be checked of course, a bruised and battered redhead, Caitlin, started to regain consciousness.

"String?" she mumbled, still trying to make sense if the mess of events muddled in her brain.

"Shh, I'm here," he soothed has he knelt down beside her and gently stroked her, careful to avoid the livid purple bruises.

"A guy - he didn't say who he was - came here. Said he guessed you'd have to learn the hard way. Something about an unpleasant game," she explained. "Said to leave the search alone or next time it will be worse."


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

"You're sure you are ok?"

"Yeah," Caitlin answered, "just a headache, some bruises, and a big mess in the kitchen to clean up."

She watched as he eyed her suspiciously as if still trying to determine whether or not she was well enough to go to the hangar, but he didn't want her at the cabin alone either, since obviously Le's disappearance was more complicated than him simply running away.

"If I have to put up with your 'I'm fine' when you are half-dead, you can put up with mine." she told him.

"Alright, but please, no flying for todayjust to make sure you really are ok."

"We'll see how it goes."

The three of them piled into the Jet Ranger to head up to the hangar and discuss the next plan of action.

They arrived just as Saint John and Dominic were pulling up.

"We need a new plan," String broke the awkward silence as they others noticed the bruises that covered Caitlin.

"I'll say."

"I don't think Le's disappearance was just as simple as running away. With yesterday's incident and the simple fact that even when he has run away before he's always come back before now. It only seems reasonable to think that there is more than we first assumed."

"So what do we do?"

"I don't know. We can't stop looking for Le, but he could be anywhere, and we wouldn't even know where to start, but this guy, whoever he is, is dangerous, specifically to you all."

"How all of _us_?" Saint John asked. "What makes _you_ in so little danger?"

"It's not that I'm not, it's just different. He said this could turn into an unpleasant game for_ me_ and he's already proven how he plan's to hurt me - though _you_."

"Delivery for Mr. Stringfellow Hawke," the delivery boy announced.

String took the small parcel and opened it carefully. Inside was a note pieced together from mismatched newspaper and magazine clippings. It read; Le, Airwolf, or one of the others?

"What others?"

"Dominic took the note and read it aloud as did Caitlin and Saint John; none of them had any clue was 'the others' was, or how they could even work this one out. How would they even reply if they had a decision?

\A/

A feeble elderly man shuffled slowly into the hangar. "Hawke," his voice crackled, "Give to Hawke." He handed over a scrap of paper with a message scrawled almost illegibly across it.

By the time Hawke had received the note and deciphered it, the old man was long gone and so were Saint John and Dom.

"The others," he read aloud, " the ones that disappeared right beneath your nose."

\A/

Caitlin listened anxiously as the news reported by her husband just grew worse and worse. Dom, Saint John, and Le were all missing now, and if everything went according to plan for this mysterious kidnapper, String could keep one of them or Airwolf, his choice.

"I'm to meet one of his men in a park just outside Los Angeles if I want Le, or over in Vegas if Dom, but if I want Saint John, he is being held all the way over in Georgia." In Airwolf, he could easily make the journey before the deadline, but that whole thing was very meticulously planned. He would meet in Airwolf at his choice of location at midnight tomorrow or each one of them would be killed. Saint John, presumably the one he would be most likely to choose and if, by some stroke of luck, he managed to get away with Airwolf the others would be too far away to get to in time to save them all.

"What are we going to do?"

He sighed dejectedly. "I don't know what _**I'm **_going to do."

"You can't do it all yourself and you know it," Caitlin protested boldly. "I will help somehow. When you proposed this marriage I knew I'd have to put up with your stubbornness and now you're just going to have to put up with mine."

"I don't remember that being in the marriage vows, and **no** you are** not** going. You've already been hurt once and that was once too many times. Don't worry, I'll give him a piece of my mind and a couple of rounds too, but you aren't getting involved in this any more."

"String, you _have_ to let me help. You don't have any real choice if you want to get the others back in one piece."

"I don't _**need**_ anyone," he retorted defiantly.

She looked away, surprised, shocked, and hurt. If he wanted to go off by himself and get himself killed, fine, let him! If he didn't need her why should she need him?

\A/

**At the Lair the following afternoon…**

Drenched in sweat and more exhausted than he thought physically possible, Hawke left the newly repaired Airwolf to change into his flight suit and get ready for the eventful night to come. She wasn't anywhere near one hundred percent, but good enough for tonight, hopefully.

Chance crawled out from beneath the stubby little winglet and came over to investigate his father's latest change in apparel. He didn't need anyone, he'd said, that was before he thought about having to watch Chance after Caitlin disappeared to wherever she had gone.

For some reason, he hadn't been able to get a hold of Michael or Marella and Mike was still out of town. It seemed like everyone had deserted him but Chance; he'd **have** to be able to do it on his own because no one else was around and he knew what it was like to be orphaned as a child and didn't want Chance to have to go through that. He and Saint John had been lucky to have Dom.

Pulling opened the door with a pressurized whoosh of air, he called, "Come on buddy, we've got a family to save, and you're my only backup."


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Saint John tried to drag himself up off the cold cement floor, but found it to be an almost impossible task. The fuzzy images inside the small enclosed room swam before his eyes as he tried to push away the overwhelming pain and force himself into a more upright position. Whatever they'd hit him over the head with sure hadn't been the slightest bit forgiving. It was a small room and difficult to escape from, about six by six, cement floor, and concrete block walls, with his only source of light and air flow being the small window far above reach. That and the solid single door looked to be the only possibilities for escape, and that was only if he could gather himself with enough energy to attempt escaping. He didn't have any idea what his captor's plans were for him and hoped to not stick around long enough to find out. If his escape failed the consequences would be great, but he couldn't expect anyone to come after him, and he wasn't about to just sit here and wait for them to kill him.

Saint John sent an appraising glance around the room once his vision started to clear, but there wasn't too much to appraise. A bare cot stood in one corner with a tattered and torn blanket thrown carelessly onto it, that was it.

If he was going to get out of here alive, he'd have to think through things logically, but it was so hard to think through the muggy heat radiating through the room making him want to collapse back onto the cold floor. It was September! Shouldn't the heat at least be starting to dissipate?

Thinking grew harder and he didn't think it was all because of the heat, although that probably had a large role in it. Hungry - he was hungry. When was the last time he'd had a decent meal anyway? It was probably his second day here and he hadn't eaten yet the day before…. At least three days he figured.

"Better get yourself together, Sinj," he said to himself, "while you still have enough energy to put up a little fight."

\A/

Airwolf soared with the clouds above the varying landscapes. First it had been rocky soil and mesas, flat plains, and now they were crossing above an orange clay road and a small neighborhood.

"Doesn't look like we have any high security centers," he mused aloud. "There are more golf carts than cars!" Indeed, it was only a small town with very little - well, very little anything. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all.

Setting up a scan for Saint John Hawke, String began searching the area for his missing brother. Hopefully, he could rescue Saint John, take out his captors, and still be back in time to pick up Dom and Le. It was spreading himself thin, but what choice did he have? He couldn't have let Caitlin go and possibly get hurt; he already hadn't done enough to protect her as it was. Kind of strange that he was taking Chance though, he smiled slightly at the irony. Definitely wouldn't have been his first choice, but he couldn't exactly leave him alone either. Everything would just have to work. It **had** to,and not because of him. If everything didn't go according to plan he would probably be dead, and Chance alone. He needed a family to grow up with and to love him, he deserved one.

\A/

Saint John shoved himself up to his feet, only then fully realizing just how weak he actually was. Only sheer will and determination would be able to get him out because he sure wasn't going to be able to do it on pure energy. Now, what was the escape plan? First off, see if there was any possibility of getting through that window.

He went back to his worn cot and pulled it in front of the window. Propping it against the wall, he carefully climbed to the top of it. Perched precariously on the ledge of one upturned end, he reached for the ledge of the small, glassless window.

\A/

'Saint John Hawke located,' Airwolf alerted him.

Looking relieved but knowing this game was far from over, String directed Airwolf forward in the direction of the indicated house where Saint John was being kept.

\A/

Reaching out into the humid evening air, Saint John tried to grasp something to aid in pulling himself through the small opening, but all he caught was a handful of thick Georgia clay. Toppling over, the cot crashed into the floor and with it went Saint John.

Outside the door, he could hear someone, probably whoever was supposed to be guarding him, rustling around and picking up something. His footsteps quickly coming nearer the room Saint John was being held in. One quick look and the guard would know exactly what Saint John was up to. What else was there to in here though? Maybe, he could surprise the guard and take him out and escape, but he didn't know what kind of reinforcements were outside that door. Was it worth the risk?

After fumbling with a ring full of keys, the guard inserted one bulky, old fashioned key into the rusty lock and fought with it to get the door opened.

Last seconds were fast ticking away. In a hopeful attempt, Saint John threw the worn cot back up against the wall and mounted the thin rail on the upward facing end once more trying to escape before he was caught.

The dilapidated rail framed bed wavered unsteadily and the distinctive screech of metal on metal scraping against each other as the left side bent slightly could be heard.

"Hasn't fallen yet," Saint John remarked in surprise, praying it would continue to hold. Once against he reached out of the window trying to grab a hold onto something firm and get out, but what was out there to grab onto?

The metallic, nail scraping sound of metal against metal scraping together could be heard as the cot began to fold and bend under the added strain.

Desperately reaching for anything within arm's length, Saint John tried to avoid the inevitable crash back into the cement below. Just as the cot collapsed, his hand was grabbed firmly in a strong grip and it started to pull him out of the square cutaway that served as a window.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Saint John shoved himself though the small square window, scraping his shoulders against the medal frame as he fought his way free. Reaching down, String grabbed his other forearm, throwing all his weight and muscle into hauling his brother through the tight opening. Panting with exertion, he dragged him into the dusky twilight shadows next to the building where he was standing,

"You know, if you'd lay off on the meatball sandwiches, you would fit through a lot better."

"Sorry but I can't help that I'm not a string bean like you."

String rolled his eyes. "Let's just get back to Airwolf. Chance is probably getting impatient."

"Chance? We are thinking about different Chance's aren't we?"

"Not if you are thinking about my two year old son," he replied and began loping toward Airwolf.

Saint John ran up beside him quickly. "You brought Chance? No, you wouldn't. Why would you?"

"Yes I did," he answered as they returned. "I wanted backup."

"Backup? You wouldn't have brought him along and I know it."

"Then think again. He's sitting in your seat."

Saint John pulled open the door, thinking how stupid String had to be to think he would actually fall for that one, but sure enough, Chance was actually sitting there just like String had said.

"Why?"

"What else was I supposed to do? You, Dom, and Le were gone; I couldn't get a hold of Michael or Marella, and who knows where Cait is."

"Caitlin is missing too?" Saint John queried, worried about how serious things were getting.

"Yeah," he replied succinctly, "but I don't think she got kidnapped. She's mad at me and I haven't seen her since yesterday afternoon."

"What'd you do to run her run her off?"

"I told her she couldn't go. This one is just getting too dangerous and I can't risk loosing her too."

"Looks to me like you already did," Saint John pointed out.

"I know, and I hate it, but I would rather loose her love and even as a friend that watch her die in front of me or because of me."

"String, she's not…"

"Gabrielle," he finished with a heavy sigh. "I know, but it would it really matter who she was if she died because of me?"

Saint John paused, trying to come up with something to say that his brother wouldn't completely shut out because he knew just how fragile this ground was, but he hesitated too long.

"Come on. We still have to rescue Dom and Le."

Saint John took the back seat, still amazed he had been pushed out by a two year old, even if he was String's son.

"What were you doing leaving him in Airwolf anyway"

"She was babysitting for me. What was I supposed to do? Bring him with me to go pull you out of a window?"

"No, but…never mind."

\A/

"Saint John, get a hold of Knightsbridge and see about getting us a refuel will ya?"

"What, your co-pilot can't do that for you?"

"Do you want me to find out?"

"No, I'm working on it. You probably would though."

"Never too early to start learning right?"

"Yeah, sure."

\A/

**11:20pm Las Vegas, Nevada**

Airwolf growled as she slipped out of the heights of the dark sky and down towards the well lit streets of Las Vegas. Setting down in the darkest possible corner, String made sure Saint John understood his part in the plan and the timing. They didn't really have time for this pickup, and getting back to Los Angeles in time to get Le would be pushing it even at mach, but they'd have to try their best and pray that that was enough because right now there wasn't any way to do things differently.

"Remember, if Dom and I aren't back in ten minutes leave, and get Le and keep Chance safe."

"I can't just leave you, String," Saint John protested.

"Hopefully you won't have to, but if you don't leave here in ten minutes they'll kill Le too. I don't have any more time to debate - that's the way it is."

"Love you both." Loping off towards the designated building, he disappeared into the night.

"Ten minutes," Saint John shook his head. "Who could pull off a rescue in ten minutes?" String better be able to.

\A/

**11:29pm**

**Airwolf Cockpit**

"String, where are you?" Saint John demanded in worry and exasperation as he lifted Airwolf up off the ground. Blow the building and save Le -that was his job as of now, but could he really do it? As much as he hated it, it had to be done.

He had promised to take care of Chance if everything every didn't work out and String was killed or not physically able of taking care of him, but Chance's likeness to his father would be so hard to live with knowing he was the cause of his own brother's death.

Nonetheless, String was right; it had to be done.

Rising off the ground, Airwolf aligned in front of the building and Saint John went to shoot the first missile.

'Error. Crew safety at risk - Stringfellow Hawke, Dominic Santini. Orders?'

"Damn you, don't you think I know that?" Saint John cried out. It was like she was trying to rub it in that he was about to kill his brother and surrogate father. If he didn't though, they'd still be dead and so would Le.

"Override error and fire the Maverick."

Nothing happened.

'Permission by chief pilot Stringfellow Hawke needed first.'

Now what?

Suddenly, the ADF pods lowered and the Maverick slammed into the building, followed by another and another.

That was it; it was done. Streams of tears threatened to flow down Saint John's face, but he tried to blink them back. There would be time for tears later, now he had to go save his son.

Just as he started to pilot Airwolf away from the scene and clearing smoke, two men staggered out of the darkness of chaos, flames, smoke, and debrisinto the night.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Dom came around the left as String loped stiffly around to the right. Saint John slid over into the co-pilot/weapons engineer's seat after relocating Chance to the jump seat in the back.

Dom pulled the left door open and moved to his usual seat in the back just as String pulled the right door open and slid his helmet on. "Saint John, get that boy to a hospital, he's hit."

"I'll live," String protested.

"That's debatable," Dominic returned.

Removing a sticky blood covered hand from the wound, he wiped it off on the already ruined flight suit and grasped the collective and cyclic in each hand.

Momentarily, Airwolf shot off towards the Los Angeles park.

\A/

String waited impatiently in Airwolf while Saint John and Dom went in to rescue Le. He understood he wasn't in any condition to be going in with them, and watching Chance, even though he was asleep, was plenty for him to worry about.

He reached into the first aid kit for yet another piece of gauze and held it in place over the other pieces. At least the bleeding was starting to slow, or was it just taking it that long to seep through layer after layer of gauze?

Chance slept fitfully in the jump seat, random twitches or jerking and rolling back and forth not uncommon. He couldn't be getting much rest. String would have woken him, but getting back there would be difficult being too weak…

Suddenly awake, Chance scrambled up, and climbed into the seat next to his father.

"Hey, buddy," String whispered.

Chance looked up at String even in his young eyes understanding and concern was evident. "Daddy?"

"Don't worry, I'll be ok," he assured even as a blissful darkness threatened to overcome him. No, he told himself, be strong, have to be for Chance.

\A/

Le tried once again to loosen the tight bonds that held him. Other than being taken off for the occasional meal, he'd been tied up like this for at least a few days, he thought, but time was beginning to swim together into one massive, chaotic sum lump.

The door flew open and two guards threw in two more bound prisoners, then slammed the door shut again. These prisoners he knew though - Saint John and Dom. Rescue wasn't looking so hopeful any more.

"That didn't go well. String told me climbing through windows wasn't my thing though. I guess I should have listened better."

Dominic looked up at him questioningly, but received no answer.

"How long do you think until String comes after us?" Saint John asked.

"Depends if he's passed out yet or not. We need to get him to a hospital though."

"I think he's coming now," Le broke in.

Sure enough, outside the door, shouts, breaking of glass, and crashing as bodies hit the floor could be heard as String put up all the fight that was left, but more guards appeared from beyond the corner and shoved him onto the hard ground, tied his hands and feet, then unceremoniously hoisted him into the room with the others.

"Go see what he did with that helicopter," one yelled. "What the heck is that kid doing here? Where'd he come from?"

Looking more than a little confused the two men shrugged.

"Nevermind," the man snarled. Just get him out of here. And while you're at it, make sure all of them are tied up good and lock the door. They're of no more use to us."

"Yes, sir," both men answered.

\A/

"String, you alright?" Saint John asked, knowing full well that he wasn't alright and that he was beginning to show the first symptoms of shock.

"C-cold," he mumbled.

Le, Saint John, and Dom were already huddled up around him, trying to share any body heat they could, but he'd already lost a lot of blood and there wasn't anything they could do more than that now.

Le got up and looked out the barred window. "Hey guys, I think we can get out of here."

"How?" Saint John and Dom asked in unison, String long since having given way to unconsciousness.

"There's a helicopter out there - Airwolf, but not Airwolf. It doesn't sound like her. While they are distracted, if one of us could get out of here and get the keys, we could unlock the door."

Walking back over to Chance, he whispered something in his ear.

"Uh-uh," Chance refused.

"Please," Le pleaded, "For your Daddy and so you can see your Mommy again."

"She's gone-" String muttered breathlessly, giving way to another bout of cold shivers.

"For them," Le tried, "and so you can go play."

He seemed to at least be thinking about it now.

"Let's play a game. The first one to get the keys on the other side of those bars and bring them back to Uncle Dom wins."

Chance climbed up and tried to squeeze through the close metal bars.

"I'm going to win," Le taunted.

"No I win!"

Finally slipping through, he grabbed the ring of keys and wedged through the rails again, handing the keys to Dominic, proudly announcing his victory.

Le inserted the key and turned the handle, allowing them their freedom, then took charge of Chance while Dominic and Saint John carried String, who was fading in and out of consciousness, out.

\A/

"Airwolf at last," the pilot captor said in awe, "she really is beautiful."

"Thank you miss."

"All in a days work," she shrugged offhandedly. "It really wasn't that big of a deal."

\A/

Reaching Airwolf at last, Dominic got in first then helped Saint John get String loaded in. Finally Le and Chance scrunched in and they started off.

"Four heat sources down there," Dom reported, "and they sure are active. Wait, only one now; the other three are dead."

"Saves us some work."

Soon the Airwolf mimic was right on their tails. "Dom, load me up something to take that out of the sky."

Summoning all his strength, String uttered a weak 'don't' but the missile lit up the early morning sky in the distance as they sped off towards the hospital, and he succumbed to the painless blackness once again.

"Are we about there yet?" Dominic asked. "He's looking kind of blue and his breathing ain't so great."

Even over the hum of the computers, Saint John could hear the quick ragged gasps from his brother in the back, and the blood…there was blood everywhere up here, the sticky substance covering the outside of the first aid kit, collective, cyclic, and the seat.

Dom monitored the temperatures from the back. She was getting hotter that she should, but they couldn't afford to waste any more time. String needed immediate medical attention two and a half hours ago, now…now, _**hopefully**_ emergency medical attention would be sufficient. The Lady would could make it, she's have to, but it really was amazing that String had even been able to get her running in such short order, but there was no question about not being in the best possible condition.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

"Damn. The second engine's flaming out again."

"We got to set down; she can't handle this anymore."

"We're almost there, and I'm not sure String can hang on much longer."

The hospital roof finally came into view, but the quick, shallow breathing had grown even shallower and the bleeding had started again.

Dom knew the truth in Saint John's words, but he wasn't sure the Lady would hang on that long either.

"Alright. Just don't kill us in the process."

"Where's Chance?" Le questioned suddenly. "He was right here-I thought he was sleeping, but…"

Taking his eyes of the monitors in front of him for a brief moment, Dominic scanned the cabin for any sign of Chance, Finally his gaze came to rest on the two year old. He had curled up next to his father and rested his head on the one clean spot left on the chest of the gray uniform, his hand tightly clenched around String's, indicating his refusal to be moved.

The resemble was uncanny in the two, he was like a miniature String, blonder, but he had the same crystal blue eyes, that were also currently shut.

"I found him, and he's alight where he is."

Approaching the hospital," Saint John announced.

String briefly regained consciousness as they landed and the medical team started to unload him, unbearable pain filled his body, sharp claws of it ripping into his flesh, but when he managed to open his eyes, all he could focus on were the two, scared, blue eyes looking longingly after him.

"Wait," he pleaded in a harsh whisper.

Everyone froze in astonishment that he was awake and coherent, even for a moment.

Everything went fuzzy and he could feel himself starting to drift off again, but was able to manage a clear view of the family he had left.

Chance unashamedly crept up and threw his arms around his father, who in turn brought shaking arms around him and pulled him close. "I'll be ok," he whispered. "I promise."

\A/

"They aren't giving up all hope, but….things aren't looking very good," the nurse informed them.

"How bad is it really?" Dom asked.

The nurse shook her head gravely, obviously not enjoying having to be the bearer of bad news. "he has gone into a progressive, or decompensating, stage of shock. We've already given him a blood transfusion and have him on oxygen and intravenous antibiotics and fluids, but he's beginning to show the early symptoms of septic shock. They're doing all they can for him, but at this stage we can't promise anything."

"Cut to the chase," Saint John bit out. "What are his chances?"

"With just the septic shock the survival rate is only about fifty percent, but things are a little different for Stringfellow. Typically, septic shock affects children, individuals with weak or no immune systems, and the elderly, it seems he usually has a very good immune system, so the odds would be slightly in his favor if it weren't for the other injuries."

They'd been waiting for at least a good four hours, desperately wanting to see him, but his getting proper medical attention was more important right now, so they would continue to wait.

\A/

What were they giving him? Trying to shake off the tired, foggy feeling, he searched the room for the familiar faces he was expecting to see, but nobody was there. His only companions in the lonely hospital room were a get well card and a drawing that looked like it was from Chance. The methodic mechanical beeping and chirping from the various machines were more annoying than reassuring, a sense of numbed pain ached throughout his whole body, especially his midsection where he'd been shot. He pushed away the covers and revealed a bandage on his right forearm and the iv needle in the left. Where was everybody? He looked for a clock or his watch; it could be the middle of the night - that would explain no one being here.

He couldn't find either, but he did pick up that card from the table next to him. It was a cheerful shade of yellow with a bright design on the front, but that was about all he could tell. Flipping it open, he struggled to read all of the signature, but they blurred together into a fuzzy mess. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head, then read them again. With much concentration he recognized Dom, Sinj, Le, and a scrawling that had to be Chance. It was just as he'd feared - no Caitlin, and now he had a monstrous headache on top of it all. What was wrong with his head?

String endeavored to sit up, only receiving a lightheaded dizzy feeling and a stabbing pain in his stomach. Sinking back into the pillows, he allowed himself to drift off again. Maybe when he woke up everything would be ok.

\A/

Hours later, he woke again, pain more evident but not yet unbearable. After blinking several times, he squinted at the bright light. He tried to move his right arm but soon realized he couldn't. Panic. What really was wrong with him? This wasn't any better than that previous awakening, it was worse. Something heavy pressed against his chest. Looking down, he saw it was Chance. This time he looked much better than last time he remembered seeing him. Before, he looked scared, afraid, lost, worried, now a peaceful, reassured smile tugged at his lips even as he slept, like he knew everything would turn out ok in the end.

He was actually kind of surprised they had let Chance up on the bed with him, but so glad they did. It was just about the best thing there was to wake up to.

Coming out of the en suite bathroom, Dominic happened to cast a cursory glance at his surrogate son and his grandson who now laid next to him, then a surprised but pleased look became evident on his face.

"You're awake."

Trying to form words but failing, he simply nodded.

Chance stirred for a moment, sliding farther over onto his father.

"Here, let me get him off of you," Dom offered, reaching for him, but he was met with a silent protesting shake of the head.

"You sure? It must be awfully hard to breath and they didn't even take you off the oxygen until late last night.

"I'm sure," he replied in a harsh whisper.

"Ok then, if you think you two will be okay for a minute I'll go round up Saint John and Le," Dominic offered. "They went to get lunch," he explained.

String nodded in understanding, " 'Kay," then added, "water."

"Yeah, sure. Listen, I'll tell the doc you're up and have him come by while I round up the others."


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

"You've sure made an amazing recovery, Stringfellow," the doctor commented. "It's like your body went into hibernation for a week, but when you came out of it you were well beyond the worse parts."

He saw the tired blue eyes searching him, imploring him to skip the extra dialogue and get straight to the news he wanted to hear.

"We'll let you have a little water now and see how you handle it. You have spent about a week on nothing but intravenous nourishment so it might take a few days to get your appetite worked up though."

"And?"

"You are recovering remarkably well considering the condition you were in when you got here. On a good number of painkillers, but that is to be expected and you're already being worked off part of those. We can very gradually start working you off the other medicines and get closer to being back to normal."

"What about the fuzziness?" String questioned hoarsely.

"Probably just a side effect from the drugs. We'll get the rest of the test results in this evening to make sure, but it wouldn't be an uncommon side effect."

"When can I get out of here?"

"Slow down, here son. You're just coming out of a very serious injury and can't expect to go home immediately."

"How long?" he repeated.

"It depends on a lot right now. If all your tests come back clean and you can hold down your food, you should be able to go as soon as we make sure all the infection is gone, but at the very minimum it'll probably be a week, maybe more."

\A/

**Two Weeks Later**

The Santini Air Jet Ranger came around the tree tops and landed on the end of the dock.

Home sweet home.

"You sure you don't want me to watch Chance for you? The doctor did say you should take it easy for a while."

"I can do it."

"I know you _can_, but I don't want you to run yourself into the ground doing it."

Occasionally String would still get spells of lightheadedness and fuzziness and it worried Saint John enough to be leaving String here, much less Chance with him, especially with Cait,... well, wherever she was.

"Tell you what..., get settled back in here, and I'll drop Chance off with you in a day or two."

"I want Chance here," he requested, almost a plea. If he couldn't have Caitlin and Chance, he at least wanted Chance.

"If you're sure…" Saint John began doubtfully.

"I'm sure. You can come by tomorrow for dinner and if I feel differently, or like I can't handle it yet, then you can take him with you."

"Just remember, I wouldn't find it a burden, and I did promise to take care of him if you ever needed me to."

"I'll remember and be eternally grateful, and you have done a great job at it the last few weeks, but I think I'm up to it now."

Saint John nodded understandingly. He would have felt the same way. "Alright then."

"See you for dinner. Just remember, if you want meat, you bring your own. I'm sticking to fish."

"You aren't going out on that lake are you?"

"Where else would you suggest I fish? The grass?"

"Uh-uh. No. I'm not leaving you to get dizzy out there and drown yourself," Saint John stated firmly.

"I won't," String replied. "I promise."

"You better not. That one was cutting it too close."

"I won't. Dom brought enough food to keep us feasting for three months. There's fish in the freezer," he added relenting when he saw the continued worry on his brother's face.

\A/

Waking up early the next morning, String started the coffee and stepped outside to admire the sunrise. It was stunning, much more beautiful from the ones he'd seen lately from his hospital bed. An idea suddenly occurring to him, he went back inside, returning a moment later with Chance in his arms.

He settled on the steps of the front porch with his son in his lap, enjoying the most beautiful sunrise he'd seen in a long time.

"Pretty," Chance commented.

"Yeah, pretty."

_Pretty_ sunrise, _pretty _nice life. Everything was _pretty_ good, probably the closest to perfect** he** would ever get.

Caitlin seemed to be gone from his life, but she could very possibly be gone a different way if he had allowed her to come along. He still couldn't quite believe she'd left both him and Chance though. Especially Chance. Pain bubbled up in his chest at the thought, even as he shoved it back down ruthlessly. Life wasn't perfect and he would have to learn to live with whatever it threw at him. At least he could know that she wouldn't be hurt, or even killed, because of him. Fate didn't have a good previous record for letting those he loved live, but he somehow still had Dom and had finally found Saint John after all those years. Chance was, in so many ways, like him, in looks, in personality, and in that he had already experienced more than his fair share of problems, but he also seemed to have that eerie, unnatural ability to survive. String could only hope, he wouldn't have the same problems he had had, because he had had plenty of close calls and and even he knew eventually his luck would run out. For now though, he tried be thankful for what he did have, even as he looked out on the still lake and thought longingly of Cait.


End file.
